


Mistakes and Beaten Bodies

by sxnxsterdrabblings



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxnxsterdrabblings/pseuds/sxnxsterdrabblings
Summary: He’s your savior. You love him, and you need him to break you.





	Mistakes and Beaten Bodies

You’re tired. You’re beaten, broken, and you can’t handle any more or you’ll shatter. That’s what the aching in your body tells you. But the slow pump of your heart tells you that you’re still alive, and you can handle more.

So badly, you want to raise to your feet and tell him that he’s wrong. Tell him that he’s beat you for so long and so much, that it only proves the love that he must feel for you, since he’s touching you with his own hands, and using up so much of his precious time.

If he didn’t love you, he would never have put in as much effort as he had to keep you pinned to the floor from all the pain, as you are now. That’s what your brain tells you, even as you look up into his emotionless eyes as he stares down at you like scum.

 

It’s also the brain that’s been locked away without a sliver of hope to save it. A brain without proper functioning time under constant high stress. To make matters worse, a brain without attention, or a stable connection in years now, so much that it’s falsely created one of its own. With him.

But you don’t know that- it’s never crossed your mind. You just know that he always comes back through that door, and he brings in all the light, food, and touch you receive, in with him. He’s your savior. You know it. You repeated that in your head as he beat you earlier, and when he forced himself into you every time before that, and you’re willing to repeat it outside of your head now, as you lay half dead on the floor, in hopes that he’ll take away everything he just said. That you’re foolish for ever thinking that you meant more than a breeding tool for him, more than some unworthy harlot.

You want him to take it back. All of it. If you don’t have him, there’s nothing. You love him. You say it out loud. A whisper in a crowd. It barely makes it out beneath the sound of his expertly polished shoes, untouched by your blood as he goes to leave through the door, and take everything back with him. But he hears it. _“I love you. You’re my savior, Hanzo.”_

His body makes a solid stop mere feet away from the handle of the door. He doesn’t make a move, or face you, but you’re determined. It’s pitiful, you can admit that, but you need him to love you, need him to come back and beat you some more and prove that he’s your savior again. So you do it.

Your right arm moves first. It shakily stretches out and smacks the floor. You hear your ankle shackle scrape across the floor as you move, and something welled deep inside you tells you to turn back. You repulse it away as soon as it comes and continue moving. Ignoring the prickles of pain shooting down your body from the collision, you pull yourself forward with the same arm.

With your last movement, your body is reminded of a broken rib or two, and a shattered knee. Not to mention, more cuts and bruises than you can count. When the pain hits, you shakily breathe and muffle a scream inside your mouth. You have to do this. Pain is just a petty thing in the way of getting something you want.

That’s what he taught you. Hanzo. He taught you that. He said it a multitude of times as he pushed into you- telling you that every drop of blood you bled would be worth it for his pleasure, relief, and overall the wellbeing of his empire when you would birth his heirs.

With that, you’re motivated to keep going. Hanzo taught you a valuable lesson. He’s your savior, your love. You can’t let him down. Your second arm shoots out and drags your body forward. It hurts more than anything you’ve ever felt and each nerve screams for it to stop. Your vision is blurring, and you’re close to blacking out but you will make it to him. You have to. Your right arm moves out to pull your body forward again and the pain keeps making your vision fuzzier. You’re so tired. But Hanzo is right there, and you only need a little bit more of a push before you reach him. Both arms shoot out to haul your body forward next to his feet.

Your arms just aren’t able to lift your body forward after all they’ve endured. They shake and buckle under your weight, causing you to fall and scream. You let one tear fall from the impact before you try again. Your arms are shaking and you’re sure that you won’t make it until you push your shattered knee down onto the floor to propel you forward. You hear it crack even more from the push off of the floor, and the impact when it comes back down. The shriek that comes from your throat sounds inhuman. You sob and choke on your breath while your vision fades out some more.

You want to crawl onto his leg and beg him to beat you- to love you, and save you again. But no sounds make it out of your mouth. When you blink, you realize you must have blanked out for a few seconds, because Hanzos feet are facing forward now. You tilt your head up and look at him with droopy eyelids and a quivering chin. You’re an absolute mess, covered in blood and tears with whispers escaping your mouth. _“Break me.”_

He blinks and lets a short, deep chuckle break from his lips. Your vision is almost completely depleted now, and a whine escapes you. Hanzo crouches down towards you and holds your jaw with the hefty palm of his hand and squints his eyes, as if he’s studying you. “I already have.” He smirks, and with pleasure, you give in to the urge to sleep. Everything goes black.

Your eyes flutter open and you suck in a deep breath through your nose. Your surroundings are well kept and the room smells like Hanzo, and in that moment you wish you could stay here forever. Plush sheets caress your body, and you know you’re in your room. But it’s not the room Hanzo gave you. It’s actually yours. The one your Mama made up all for you after your Dad left.

She tried so hard painting those dragons you’d always told her about dreaming of, but somehow you know they could never compare to the real thing. The sun isnt yet over the horizon, but the sky somehow has an bright glow. You take another breath before stepping out of bed and slowly tiptoeing down the stairs.

They were always creaky, but it seems like they’re the loudest they’ve ever been as you walk down them this time. The old wood groans with age, and it startles movement in the house.

You hear footsteps from below, and a chuckle too. With the sound, you make haste down the stairs. When you reach the bottom and gaze into the living room, Hanzo is waiting at your circular dining table. You want to speak to him, but you remember his teachings. _“Speak when spoken to, pet.”_

You submissively look down, but you catch his hand patting his thigh in your peripheral vision. You walk over and and slowly bend to adjust yourself onto his lap, and he lets you take your time. You let your hands rest on your thighs when you finally sit. Hanzo’s left hand grabs one of them, intwining your fingers as his other arm places your head into the crook of his neck. You inhale his musk, and relax as the same arm wraps around your waist tightly. _“Good girl.”_ You say thank you, in acknowledgement, before he speaks again.

“ _The young ones are sleeping. But I’m not so sure you should be. You’ve got to be ready for me.”_ You know what he’s going to propose, but you keep your mouth shut. It’s inevitable, anyway.

“ _Are you ready to come home, and wake up?”_

You want so badly to stay here forever, and bask in his touch and your perfect life. To inhale his musk in the crisp mornings and feel him touch you like this every day would be heaven. But you have to wake up. It’s what he wants, and you will provide. So you give him what he wants, but not before snuggling closer to him one last time. _“Yes”_

When you wake, you’re greeted with bright light flooding through the blinds, with a thick ring behind your head and a weight on your thighs. When you move to sit up, you hear high pitched clicking and the weight on your thighs moves upward toward your chest. _The dragons. They must have healed you._

You feel a muzzle push against your neck and click again. You grin and move your hand against it so you can sit up. Once you do, they’re both ready to play. But you meet eyes with Hanzo first. He stalks forward around the side of the bed and sits next to you on the plush sheets.

Although you’re at attention and motionless, the dragons are snuggling into your stomach and wrapping themselves around you. _“They’ve been waiting to play. They’ve been all over your body. What a shame to see all the marks I’ve left on you, gone.”_ Happy clicking. A moment of silence. _“I suppose… you’ll have to make more.”_ His voice cuts sharply through the air once more, “ _That I will.”_

Hanzo grips your chin tightly and pulls you inches from his face before whispering. “ _I’ve decided to take you up on your offer. I’ll break you. With harder methods, and no lenience. I’ll start by branding you tonight. Do you understand?”_ The thought makes you shiver in excitement. He notices.

He knows what he’s doing. His lips are so close to yours while he’s giving you everything he knows you want to hear. He’s on a power trip and you’re loving every second of it. He wants you to say it again, and kiss his lips so he can punish you once more. So you do, for your savior.

_“Yes sir.”_ Your lips meet his and he thrusts your neck against the headboard before crawling on top of you and painfully pinning your legs down with his knees. _“Beg for it.”_ You shakily exhale, “ _Please sir, I need you.”_ He clicks his tongue. _“Needy slut.”_

His mouth reunites with yours and it’s all tongue and teeth. He’s biting your lower lip and keeping sweet intimacy just out of your reach. It’s torture, and to him, that’s exactly what you need. He breaks away, full well knowing you’re not satisfied and only more frustrated. But he looks at you expectantly, and you’re obliged to give him what he wants. Again. Always.

_“Thank you, sir. I love you so much.” “And what a grave mistake you’ve made.”_

 


End file.
